


The Hand that Holds the Whip

by thatworldinverted



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominance, F/M, Flogging, Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatworldinverted/pseuds/thatworldinverted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily Reilly doesn't have time for clubs, dating, or finding the perfect Dom. The solution to her problem is simple: professional dom Michael Fassbender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hand that Holds the Whip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eves_leaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eves_leaves/gifts).



The intercom on her desk buzzed, startling Emily Reilly out of her thoughts. Thoughts she probably shouldn’t have been having at the office; the kind that had her wet between the legs in the middle of the afternoon.

“Ms. Reilly? Your three o’clock is here.”

She took a deep breath. “Send him in, please, Elliott.” She shouldn’t have been having this meeting at the office, either, but hell. It was her firm, and this is where she felt the most comfortable. She could parade a hundred BDSM professionals in and out of here if she wanted.

A tap on the door, and she shook her hair back, settling a calm look over her face as Elliott ushered… _him_ … into her office.

“Mr. Fassbender. Please, have a seat.”

“Please, call me Michael.” He reached across the desk to shake her hand, settled into a chair like any other client she’d greeted. This was a business meeting, after all. _Sure_ , she told herself. _A business meeting where you’re contracting someone to tie you up and beat you. Nothing to see here, move along._

God, he was everything the website promised and more. Tall, handsome, with a scruff she could already feel burning her skin. His sharp, well-tailored suit jacket looked to have cost more than her very, very expensive shoes. And the body the suit covered- well. It was everything her friend promised.

“Mr. Fassbender- Michael- I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that you come highly recommended in certain circles.”

He nodded. “I take my work very seriously, Ms. Reilly, I can assure you.” He pulled a folder from his briefcase and slid it across her desk, flipping it open. “I’ve read over your application, and the interests you’ve listed. However, I prefer to review them with my clients in person before any scening takes place.”

Emily swallowed. “I’m familiar with the negotiation process.”

“Good girl,” he said, voice warm, like a finger stroking between her thighs. He smiled as she shifted in her seat. “Now, you mentioned both a praise kink and a humiliation kink, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Her teeth clicked together over the word _sir._ It sat on the tip of her tongue, instinctive and natural as breathing.

“It’s alright, you can say it.”

_Oh god_. “Yes, sir.”

“Your application also notes an interest in spanking. Do you prefer only your ass be spanked, or do you enjoy it on your cunt as well?” His voice curled around the word, caressed it, and Emily shifted in her seat again, pressing her thighs together.

“Yes, sir.”

“Ms. Reilly, I’m afraid I will need you to be more specific; for consent purposes, you understand.”

She lifted her gaze to the blue eyes staring at her. “Yes, sir, I enjoy having my pussy spanked.”

“And your ass? Would you like me to take it during our… time together?”

Emily nodded.

“What was that, Ms. Reilly?”

“Please, sir, I want you to fuck my ass.”

“We’ll see, Ms. Reilly. We’ll see. Now, come around the desk, please.”

She stepped around, turning on his gesture, letting him see who— what— he’d be using. Emily wondered what he was seeing; the glint in his eyes made her think it wasn’t what she saw in the mirror every morning. She was five foot nine, _before_ the four inch heels she was wearing, and a little more than generously curved. Pencil skirt and Peter Pan collar, the spike of her stilettos, all of it carefully chosen for today’s meeting. She was both a business woman and a submissive; she wanted to impress, to please, and she knew how to do it.

Emily propped a hip on the corner of her desk and quirked an eyebrow saucily. “Do you like what you see, sir?”

He clicked his tongue, scolding. “Impertinent. You may sit down.” He waited until she was settled, then pulled another piece of paper out of the folder. “There’s one more thing we should discuss. You’ve agreed to the stoplight system for safewording, which is good. I recommend it for my first session with any submissive. Do you feel comfortable with that?”

Emily nodded.

“Good girl. I also see that you’ve listed ball and spider gags as a hard no. How do you feel about other objects in your mouth? Fingers, for instance?”

The image hit her: on her knees as he stood over her, one hand on her jaw, the other pushing his fingers into her mouth, prying her open, making her take them. Choke on them. Her tongue flickering against the pressure, frantic and sloppy.

He caught the tremble that shook her and smirked. “Is that a yes, Ms. Reilly?”

“Yes, please, sir.”

“Very good.” They settled on a time to meet, and he smiled and stood, stretching to shake her hand again. His fingers dragged across her palm. “Lovely to meet you, Ms. Reilly.”

Emily collapsed into her chair as Elliott showed him out of the office. This wasn’t her first time negotiating with a dominant, but Fassbender had a presence that was… commanding, to say the least. He filled up her space, took over. She could still smell a hint of his cologne in the air, a crisp, masculine scent that made her want to fall to her knees.

It had been a year since the last time Emily played- she hated the clubs, hated dressing up and waiting, hoping, that a dom would find her worthy of their time. She knew she didn’t look like a submissive; too terse, too authoritative, too tightly wound. Far too impatient. She knew, of course, that not every dom was looking for a perfect, obedient waif of a woman, and yet the insecurities were difficult to overcome. Far too difficult for bothering with on an average weekend, when she’d rather settle in with a movie and a cocktail.

But this, with him— Michael Fassbender, even the name was impressive— this was perfect. She had no doubt he’d earn every penny of his fee, and then some.

***

It was a strange reversal of events, as Emily was escorted through the dimly lit halls of Sanctum to Michael’s chambers. She could hear noises coming from the other rooms- the crack of a whip, someone moaning. Would they be able to hear her? Would he let her be loud, let her scream and beg and whimper for whatever he gave her? Or would he force her to be whisper-quiet, keep it all in, punish her every time she made a sound?

She honestly couldn’t decide which would be better. Thankfully, it wasn’t her job to decide anything tonight.

Her silent, masked escort knocked carefully at a dark, wooden door. And then she was there, in the room, facing Michael himself. He wore only a pair of tight black pants, abs and chest and shoulders all on display, face stern, and Emily couldn’t help it. She went straight to her knees, hands behind her back, head tipped down.

Waiting.

“Oh, look at you, pet.” Footsteps, and fingers tangling into her hair. He yanked her head up, sharp. “You’re slutty for it already, aren’t you? Just desperate.”

“Yes, sir,” she gasped.

“Do you want to see what I have in store for you tonight?”

Emily nodded, eyes burning at the tug on her scalp.

“I expect you to use your words, Emily. If I ask you a question, you answer, or you’re going to get smacked, do you understand?”

“Yes. Yes, sir. Please, please may I see what you have planned?” Her voice was getting breathy and frantic already. A part of her was ashamed at how easily she gave it up, how quickly she was getting wet, but she melted into it, into the humiliation and the pain and the anticipation.

“First I think we’d better get those clothes off, don’t you? Wouldn’t want you to get… messy.”

He shoved her back down when she moved to stand. It threw her off balance, leaving her sprawled awkwardly on the floor.

“Did I tell you that you could get up?”

Emily shook her head. Michael wasn’t playing around, and fuck, but it was amazingly sexy.

He leaned over her. “What did I tell you?”

Shit. _Shit_. She’d broken a rule already. “To use my words, sir.”

“And what did I say would happen if you didn’t?”

“I’d get-”

His hand, coming down across her cheek, cut the words off. She gasped; he’d hit her hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered as she blinked them away.

“Do you regret coming here tonight?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you ready to be a good little toy for me?”

_Oh god_. “Yes, sir.”

“Then stay on the floor, and show me how eager you are by wiggling out of your clothes.”

Her dress was tight, and expensive. The lingerie underneath it, even more so. But her back arched, her legs spread, and she made a show of herself, right there on the floor, peeled off the layers and left herself bare for him.

“Now crawl, slut.”

He chuckled meanly as she rolled to all fours and followed him across the room. The rough cement floor was hard on her knees, bit at her hands. The sting went straight through to her pussy, and fuck, she was dripping already, she could feel it.

_Focus_. Emily tried to forget the way her pussy throbbed. Her pussy didn’t matter tonight- only pleasing her Master.

“Stand up.”

Emily kept her eyes down as she rose to her feet. He hadn’t given her permission to look at whatever was on the table in front of them, and she could tell he was the type of dom who would call her on it. She _liked_ that he was; it made her want, badly, to be good.

“Well, aren’t you a clever little girl? Go ahead, you can look.”

“May I- sir, may I touch?”

He nodded.

She ran her fingers over the silicone length of a flogger. Felt the heft of a wooden paddle. The smooth chill of an impressively large metal plug. She couldn’t help but linger over it, entranced.

“Like that, hmm?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve never used a metal toy before.”

He dangled the toy in front of her like a treat. “Do you want this?”

Emily gulped. The toy was big, bigger than anything she’d taken in her ass before. Instinct had her dropping to the floor, ass up towards her Master, mouth and pussy watering. “Please, sir, please.”

Fingers squeezed her ass, digging in hard. “Please what?”

“Please use the plug...”

This time it was a smack, enough to rock her forward. “Use the plug where? Say it. Tell me what my dirty little slut wants.”

“Please fuck my ass with your plug, sir!” Her face was hot against the floor. Being forced to say it out loud made her squirm, humiliated.

A glove snapped against skin. There was no time to adjust or prepare before a lubed finger was shoved into her ass.

Emily moaned.

“Oh, you like this, don’t you? Look at you, little whore, I can see your pussy, all sopping wet. What a filthy slut.”

Two fingers now, long and broad, shoving into her, fucking her hard. God, his fingers felt huge. “More, please, more.”

His other hand came smacking down on her ass. “You can’t follow orders at all, can you? I told you to use your words. Beg for what you want.”

“Oh god.... please, sir, may I have more fingers?”

She whimpered as his finger slipped out of her hole, tracing around the rim.

“You want more, hmm? Want me to fuck this hole of yours open with my fingers, get you all sloppy so you can take this plug? Get your ass all slick and stretched out for me?”

“Please, please, fuck, please! Please let me have more of your fingers in my ass!” Her hips jerked, ass shoved back at him in entreaty. “Please, sir.”

And then it was two fingers pushing into her until she bit her teeth against the stretch, moaned at it, whimpered and clenched, tried to get away as much as she pushed into it. He barely gave her time to get used to two fingers before it was three, so much she sobbed, gasped for breath, wanted to beg for it to stop. But not as much as she wanted that big metal plug inside her.

“Look at you, look at this nasty, filthy, gaping hole. Gonna take it so good, aren’t you, baby?”

Chill metal nudged against her hole. It was all the warning she got before his fingers slipped out and the plug took their place. Emily screamed at the shock, the cold, the way the plug wedged her open. She was still struggling, moaning, when he grabbed her hair and hauled her to her feet. The plug shifted, huge inside her, and she moaned again.

Michael took her over to the wall, each step made torturous by the plug. Arms above her head, legs spread, held in place by cuffs anchored in the brick wall; completely exposed. He twisted the plug again, and the brick rasped against her nipples as she jerked.

“Now that we’ve got that hole stuffed up, I think the rest of your ass deserves some attention. What do you think, hmm?”

She knew what was coming, but the first stinging bite of the crop across her ass still caught her by surprise. It had been so long. Such an incredibly long time since she’d been able to let go; to trust a dom to take her apart this way.

“Count them for me,” he demanded.

Pain. Repetition. The sound of her voice, counting; the whistle of the crop; the bright, sharp thing building under her skin. The first time she lost count, Michael smacked her cunt with the crop instead, and even over her scream, she could hear the dirty sound it made against her wet flesh.

It was harder to keep track after that, to count each time he brought the crop down. Her ass burned, and her thighs where the crop bit at them. Her clit throbbed a counterpoint. She was squirming against the wall, lost in the sensation, moaning and begging, a shameless, wild thing, lost under his hands.

“Emily? I need you to give me a color, okay?” His hand gathered damp hair off the back of her neck as he pressed a kiss there.

She shook her head weakly.

“Emily,” he said firmly. “You’re crying a lot, and I need you to give me a color. We don’t have to stop if you don’t want to, okay? But you have to tell me how you’re doing.”

Was she crying? She blinked and realized there were tears tangled in her lashes. The beating, the sensations in the rest of her body- the mindlessness of taking the pain- overwhelmed her. “Green,” she said, voice shaking. She swallowed and said it again, more steadily this time. “Green, sir.” This catharsis, this was what she needed.

“Alright. Good girl.” He stepped away. “I’m going to use the flogger on you now, and if you’re very, very good, I might let you come when I’m done.”

He didn’t make her count the strokes this time; didn’t make her do anything but take it. Each fall of the flogger drove her further out of her head. She was falling and flying, buoyed by Michael’s voice and the burn under her skin.

“Look at you,” Michael crooned, as he brought the flogger down hard across her shoulder. “You’re nothing but a pretty little pain slut.” He hit her again, a sharp lash across her already bruised ass. “That’s right, baby, let me hear you. Let me hear how much you like me hurting you.”

“Fuck, sir, please, please hurt me more. I do, I love it, please, sir.” She was desperate for him to continue. “I need it, sir, please.”

She was expecting the flogger, was ready for it; instead, she screamed as he brutally slapped the crop against her pussy. Twice, three times, each harder than the last, until her clit felt huge and sore and swollen.

“Please, sir, please, please-” Emily sobbed. She didn’t know what she was asking for at this point, just that she needed something, something more.

This time the crop hit her clit and dragged up her pussy, up the crack of her ass, until it was pressed against the base of the plug. Each move of the crop rocked the plug inside her, until her body was rocking with it. Her ass clenched tight, and it hurt, bright and sharp in her belly and cunt. She needed- fuck, she needed to come. She wanted to please her Master, she did, but she needed to come so badly.

“Ohhhhh. Oh god, sir. Sir!”

“You want something, don’t you?”

Her cheek scraped against the brick wall as she nodded.

“Does my toy think it’s earned the right to ask for something?”

Emily nodded again, frantic. “I’ve been good, sir, so good.”

He nudged the plug again and chuckled as she twitched. “What do you want, hmm?”

“Sir, am I... may I... please, sir?”

The crop tapped her ass, reminder and threat. “Use your words, toy. Don’t make me tell you a third time.”

“Please, sir, your toy wants to come!”

“Oh really? And it thinks it deserves that?”

She almost said yes. It was on the tip of her tongue, the need overwhelming her; she swallowed it back. “It’s up to you, sir.”

“That’s right. Good girl. What would it take to make my little toy come?”

Just hearing the _word_ was getting her closer to coming. “Oral, sir. Or a strong vibrator.”

He grinned a little wickedly. “Oh, I think I have just the thing for you, then.” His hands brushed against her skin as he knelt to unhook the cuffs at her ankles, and she gasped at the contact. His hand traced up her calf. “Look how sensitive you are. Need it bad, don’t you? Pussy all tight and desperate. I _do_ like that.” He reached to undo the cuffs holding her wrists to the wall and brought her arms down slowly, slid his hands along them, reached to cup her breasts and twist her nipples.

The ache of it, with her nipples already chafed, made her knees go weak. Michael scooped her up and carried her across the room, depositing Emily belly-down on a low leather chaise. A fresh bolt of pain shot through her as his fingers trailed across the welts on her back.

“Now. You have been a good girl- mostly- so if you perform well enough this time, I might let you come.”

She was so ready, it was hard not to rock her hips against the chaise, just to get some pressure on her clit.

“Anything, sir. I’ll be so good.”

He handed her a heavy, black vibrator and a wrapped condom. “Use your mouth,” he ordered, and then stood there, watching, as she fumbled the condom out of its wrapper and slipped it between her lips. On her hands and knees, her mouth sunk down onto the shaft of the vibrator, tongue and lips working at the rim of the condom. Her mouth stretched wide as she strained to get the condom all the way to the base.

The head was at the back of her throat before she was done.

“I think you can take it further than that,” he said, as she pulled the vibrator out of her mouth. “Make it good for me.”

A blush scalded her cheeks. Emily loved sucking cock, but being forced to suck a vibrator with her plugged ass up in the air, while someone like Michael watched… Her ass wiggled as she squirmed, but she leaned forward to take more of the vibrator into her mouth.

“Let me hear you choke on it, slut. We both know how much you want that cock in your throat.”

Fuck. _Fuck_. She did want it, and she made herself take it, shoved her head down until she could feel the vibrator hit the back of her throat. Until she could feel her body give in; feel the way the toy slid even deeper.

She held herself there.

Choked. Swallowed around it. Tears welled up. Her chest got tight.

But she stayed in place.

“Good girl, good job. You can come back up.” He wiped the tears from her face. “Now roll over and come for me.”

“Thank you, sir, thank you.”

“Don’t make me wait,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I want to watch you come.”

Caught up in humiliation and anticipation, she almost forgotten about the stripes criss-crossing her back and ass. She groaned, arching up off the chaise, only to be shoved back down.

“No,” he said. “Lay your ass down and come for me, before I change my mind.”

Emily’s knees dropped to either side of the chaise, spreading her pussy wide. A push of a button turned the vibrator on, and she scrambled to get it into place, desperate to feel the vibrations strong against her clit.

This was going to be so, so fast. All night, this had been building, and now she strained towards it, hips rocking, legs straining to push her cunt even closer, harder, against the solid pulse of the toy.

She shoved the vibrator hard against her clit, trembling on the edge, working it in tight little circles. Close, close, please, god, fuck-

“May I come, sir, please, may I come, _please, please, sir-_ ”

Michael’s hand tangled in her hair and yanked her head back, snapping her gaze to his.

“Come for me.”

The orgasm tore through her, electric and blinding. She shrieked out her pleasure, rubbing the vibrator hard against her cunt, riding out the shockwave until it was just this side of too much.

“I didn’t say you could stop.”

“Sir?” She was panting for breath as she came down from the high.

“Keep going.”

Emily shook her head- she couldn’t, it was too much, too much… but her hand settled the vibrator back into place against her throbbing clit.

“Fuck! Sir!”

“Keep going. You better come for me a second time.”

She was already on the edge, and her orgasm was bigger this time, huge and heavy, threatening to take her under. She trembled with it, tried to toss her head, but Michael held her tightly in place.

“Come for me, come on, do it, let me see you.”

When her orgasm hit, she couldn’t even scream; instead, she thrashed and throbbed, gasped for air as sensation blinded her. Each twitch brought her bruised skin in contact with the leather, little pricks and pains that thrilled her even more. Dragged it out longer. She didn’t know how long she came, if she shuddered in the grips of her orgasm for seconds or hours.

“That’s it. Good girl, there you go.” Michael lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms as she shivered out the last of it. “You did so good, I’m so proud of you, my pretty little slut. Such a good toy for your Master.”

Emily burrowed more tightly into the circle of his arms. This was all she wanted, to be good, to make her Master happy. “You liked it, sir?”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You were very, very good for me, Emily. I’d be thrilled to see you again, any time you need.”

Emily nodded and closed her eyes. She was fucked out, sore, and blissful, and she was sure she’d be scheduling another session immediately. There was so much more they could try- and Michael Fassbender was worth every penny.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission for the lovely [eves_leaves](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eves_leaves). Thanks for commissioning me!


End file.
